shop the clock-mender poured the steaming soup into a bowl, broke bread
in it, and began his evening meal. The other, his face pressed against
the dim pane, stared and stared.

"_Gott in Himmel!_ It is _he_!" he breathed, then stepped back into the
shadow, while the moisture from his breath slowly faded and disappeared
from the window-pane.




CHAPTER V

A COMPATRIOT


Krumerweg was indeed a crooked way. It formed a dozen elbows and ragged
half-circles as it slunk off from the Adlergasse. Streets have character
even as humans, and the Krumerweg reminded one of a person who was
afraid of being followed. The shadow of the towering bergs lay upon it,
and the few stars that peered down through the narrow crevice of
rambling gables were small, as if the brilliant planets had neither time
nor inclination to watch over such a place. And yet there lived in the
Krumerweg many a kind and loyal heart, stricken with poverty. In old
times the street had had an evil name, now it possessed only a pitiful
one.

It was half after nine when Gretchen and the vintner picked their way
over cobbles pitted here and there with mud-holes. They were arm in arm,
and they laughed when they stumbled, laughed lightly, as youth always